Inside Lance and Nola Thompson’s modest home, an all-day argument continued Lance swore that Nola was screwing around on him but that he wasn’t nobody’s fool. Especially not hers.
Although she told only the truth, Nola held back a few details that if Lance knew, he would kill her. She hadn’t gone to bed with another man. Not yet.
At the carpet factory, Jason Singleton’s eyes telegraphed torrid intentions that made her tremble with a dark need she hadn’t known she possessed. Her marriage three years ago had been a wishful solution to a lifelong problem rather than due to any all-consuming fire for Lance. Her father beat his wife and whipped his daughter whenever he was in the mood. And he’d been in the mood often.
Nola didn’t hesitate when handsome Lance Thompson proposed. As a final result of her desperate act, she’d traded an alcoholic father for an alcoholic husband.
When she looked toward the curtainless window, Nola saw it was dark outside. Bitterly she realized they’d wasted another day on worthless bickering. Lance had gone further than ever before, his outrageous accusations piling up like storm clouds. Childhood experience told her that something awful happened at Lance’s job last night. As a security guard, he usually worked alone on graveyards. Nola suspected Lance drank heavily there, also. She was always at…
